Such a Sad Love, Deep in Your Eyes
by xBlackRabbitx
Summary: The tale of Jareth and Sarah's FIRST meeting, and how he subsequently became Goblin King. Rated for later chapters.
1. Prologue

This is the result of spending two weeks on top of a hill in the raging wind, sitting in the attic on my laptop and listening to lots of David Bowie. Enter at your own risk.

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_Prologue_

He had lost her again.

After all the centuries he had spent, waiting endlessly for her return, agonising year after agonising year, she was gone. Just like that, he had lost her again.

For the first time in almost a millennia, Jareth had felt hope. When he had stood before her that night, his heart had been beating so fast he could barely maintain his arrogant facade. It had been almost impossible to hold the crystal straight as he offered it to her, so very difficult to give her her instructions without collapsing at her feet.

He had tried so hard to make her remember, to place her in situations that would bring back all that they had once shared. The hedge-maze, shaped like the one they had once run through together. The ballroom and the masquerade, the dress she had worn when she'd first broken his heart. He had remodelled the Goblin Kingdom until it was full of her, waiting with bated breath for her return. He had ruled over the Underground for so long, only because he knew she would one day return.

She had returned, but she had not remembered. _She_ was the same as _he_ remembered, as beautiful now as she had been all those centuries ago, but she did not remember him. Nothing he did could make her recall the time they had spent together, lifetimes away now. She had lost the memories, and she was lost to him.

Centuries of work, of waiting, of surviving on the tiniest fraction of hope, all for nought. He was cursed, never allowed happiness. He could wait until the stars fell from the sky, and she would not be his. Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, they had fought to be together, and were ripped so brutally apart. He had lived only for her return, and now she was gone.

Jareth yelled, one long, animalistic cry of bitter, anguished pain. He sent blasts of crackling power at the walls of the oubliette he had come to to hide, chunks of rock exploding around him. Then he sunk to his knees, dry sobs wracking his frame. The facade he had held onto for so long shattered, the emotions he kept hidden pouring forth. The oubliette rung with the sounds of his anguish. What had he done wrong? Why hadn't she remembered? What had he missed?

Jareth straightened, drawing a few ragged breaths. He conjured a crystal, watching as its contents flickered and swirled impossibly fast, until he found himself near the very beginning of his own history, comparatively young. This was the time when it had all begun, when his world had begun to change. When Sarah had first come into his life.

Sitting himself up against a wall, Jareth watched as, inside the crystal, their painful history came to life.


	2. Fateful Beginnings

And so it begins. The poem he recites is called _The Prince of Love_ by William Blake, I'm pretty sure. Correct me if I'm wrong. Anyway, this chapter and the next one are pretty rubbish, in my opinion, but still necessary. So, enjoy! Review, and the next chapter will come quickly.

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Chapter One

Jareth sat languidly on a red velvet chaise, placing purple grapes lazily into his mouth. Shimmering curtains of gold and silver gauze hung above him, and moss formed a rich emerald carpet beneath his seat. Bluebells covered the ground like pieces of misty sky, and a stream tinkled merrily somewhere in the background. Beautiful beings, human in appearance and yet obviously of magical ilk, sat around under the gauze canopy, talking laughing, drinking. Large gold platters laden with ripe fruit were scattered amongst the group, along with silver pitchers containing wine as red as lust or golden liquid sweet as honey. The entire scene was a study in decadence.

The beings in the clearing were more beautiful than any mortal could ever hope to be; their hair was spun gold, black silk, silver starlight. Their skin was fresh cream and peaches, their bodies thin and supple. The women were fair and the men handsome, all with proud, noble bearings. Their every movement was grace itself, watching them being equal to watching the most complicated of ballet. Their voices were pure, their laughter like the tinkling of bells or wind in the leaves.

The most beautiful of their gathering was a black-haired youth, a strong male with eyes the colour of oak leaves in autumn and hair like ebony silk. He was taller than his companions, lithe and lightly muscled. One glance from him was enough to provide a lifetime of longing. The others looked to him with reverence, for not only was he beautiful, but he was also first in line to their throne. His name was Caleb.

His sister, second in line to the throne, was also the second most beautiful of the gathering. Her hair and eyes were the same as her brothers, for they were twins. She had high cheekbones and a sweet mouth that smiled easily. Her voice was soft as a doves', and to see her was to love her. Her name was Kyra.

Third in line to the throne, and third most attractive, was Jareth. While his siblings were dark of hair and light of spirit, Jareth's hair was golden and his nature dark. While he was beautiful, with hair like a halo of gold and a face handsome enough to make any mortal woman weak at the knees, his brother was the one whom the ladies of his company sought after. While he was a prince, he was only third in line to the throne, while his brother would be king. He was an afterthought, a royal in title only. His people saw him as arrogant, dark and surly. They had little time for him. Even in that beautiful place, where all were merry, he was subtly avoided. The Fae had little time for troubled beings. The one time he ever had their full and willing attention was when he sang; Jareth had a voice unrivalled in his kingdom. That was the one area in which his elder siblings could never compete.

"Brother!" Caleb called across the clearing. "Jareth, my brother, I grow weary of idle talk. Sing us a song."

"I am not your songbird, Caleb. Sing your own." Jareth replied coolly.

"Come! Do not be so cruel. You know you have the best voice of any of us!" Caleb got down on his hands and knees, making mock-begging motions. "Sing for us, Jareth!"

"Yes Jareth, sing for us!" The gathering chorused.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed heavily, then stood to rapturous applause.

"What shall you have me sing today, hm? A ditty, a ballad?" Jareth enquired sardonically. "Shall I perform a sonnet?"

"Oh, something jolly!" Kyra enthused. "Something about love."

"Very well." Jareth sighed. He tapped the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of something appropriate. One of his companions pulled out a flute, another, a small harp. "Alright, I think I have one."

The flute and harp played a simple, sweet tune as Jareth's velvety voice filled the clearing.

"_How sweet I roamed from field to field,  
And tasted all the summer's pride,  
Till I the Prince of Love beheld  
Who in the sunny beams did glide._

_He showed me lilies for my hair,  
And blushing roses for my brow;  
He led me through his gardens fair  
Where all his golden pleasures grow._

_With sweet May-dews my wings were wet,  
And Phoebus fired my vocal rage;  
He caught me in his silken net,  
And shut me in his golden cage._

_He loves to sit and hear me sing,  
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me:  
Then stretches out my golden wing,  
And mocks my loss of liberty."_

"Oh, Jareth!" Kyra cried. "Your voice is so sweet, but your songs so sombre! Speak not of cages! Pray, a happy song!"

Jareth sighed, rolling his eyes. "I will sing for you but once more, sister. Then I shall leave."

"Very well. But pray do make it something _jolly_!"

Jareth sung a brief song, a jolly ditty about love to please his sister. Then he took his leave of the small party, striding into the woods. The trees were tall and thin, with snow-white bark. The ground was covered in thick ferns, with leaves so dark they were almost black. Sun shone through the thin canopy in golden beams, highlighting the flight of small rabbits or the fluttering of delicate butterflies. It was a beautiful place, but Jareth found it haunting. He wandered among the ghostly trunks for what seemed like an age, resentment bubbling in his veins. He hated the way he was forgotten whenever his siblings were around. He hated how when they weren't, everybody feigned politeness, talking to him only because he was prince. He hated that even though he would never be king, he still had to perform duties and have responsibilities. More than anything, Jareth wished to be free; not to have to be prince one minute and nobody the next. To start afresh, with people who did not know his face, or the face he could have had, had he only been the first-born.

A plan began to form in Jareth's mind; it was an idea that had been floating in the back of his head for a while now, but for the first time he brought it to the surface. A way that he could leave the Kingdom of the Fae, become an unknown and wonder freely, without the responsibility of a title and the weight of being the youngest sibling. He could be invisible when _he_ wanted, not at the whim of his peers.

Jareth transformed mid-step, becoming a graceful barn owl. He swooped through the trees, sending small creatures running for cover with his shadow. He headed back to the palace to execute his escape.

...

Jareth knelt before the King and Queen- his parents. They both had hair the colour of starlight and eyes that sparkled with merriment. Their age was shown only through the smallest of wrinkles at the corners of their eyes and mouth. They were both dressed in burgundy velvet, sitting upon marble thrones carved into bowers of white branches. The room was also of white marble, with bright flames in gold filigree holders dangling from the high ceiling. Arched windows on one side gave view to a glittering cobalt sea, beautiful woodlands on the other.

"Mother, Father, I seek you blessing. I wish to travel the kingdoms, gathering knowledge so that I may aid my brother well when he is King." Jareth spoke the words with bowed head, raising it slightly to see their reactions to his request. His manner was humble, but his lips quirked with a barely-contained smirk.

"What has brought this about, my son?" The King cried.

"Do you refuse to give your blessing, Majesty?" Jareth asked.

"I merely wonder why my blessing has been asked for." The King steepled his fingers, regarding Jareth solemnly.

"As I have said, I wish to aid my brother in his sovereignty. I have come to the realisation that it is my duty to do so, and this is the best way I feel I can do it."

"I feel it is a noble quest." The Queen said, eyes crinkling with a warm smile. "You have my blessing."

The King sat silent for a moment, contemplating his young son with a thoughtful expression. He was not suspicious of his son's motives, merely startled at the request. Then he sighed, smiling also.

"I give you my blessing, Jareth. Do with it as you will." He gestured towards the door. "Go now, that you may return as soon as possible to our halls."

"Thankyou, Mother, Father. I shall not disappoint." Jareth rose slowly, backing out of the hall with his head bowed. He closed the doors behind him, the smirk finally released unto his face; his mismatched eyes lit up with mischievous glee and the points of his teeth glittered. He was filled with a sudden sense of freedom, hope and joy crashing over him in waves. In that moment, he was every bit as beautiful as his siblings. He strode to his chambers with new confidence, those in his path shrinking back at this new side of their prince.

In his chambers, Jareth gathered together the few belongings he wished to take with him and changed into some plainer clothes: black gloves, a poet shirt and black waistcoat, tight brown breeches, black boots and a soft woollen cloak with a hood. Into a leather pouch he placed a notebook, a quill and a small pot of black ink, a small flute he had carved from bone and a clear crystal. He then regarded himself briefly in the mirror: would he fit into mortal society? With a quick wave of his fingers, his eyebrows lost their peculiar Fae shape. Jareth nodded briefly at his reflection, pulling up the hood of his cloak to cover his golden hair. Then with a small flourish, he disappeared, leaving the Fae Kingdom behind.

...

A figure in a brown hooded cloak made its way to the castle doors early in the morning. The guard at the gate at first mistook him for a monk with his brown robe, but as he figure drew nearer it became clear he was far from it. The fabric of his clothes was far richer than that worn by any member of the clergy, for a start. He held himself in a way that suggested noble blood, but he was on foot. His features were far too fine to be those of a peasant, yet his clothes, despite the fabric, were of simple design, with evidence of wear.

"Wot's your biz-ness 'ere?" The guard enquired loudly.

"My 'business' is music, good sir." The stranger smiled, an expression the guard found strangely chilling. "I am a minstrel come to offer my services to the court."

"We've already go' a jester, mate." The guard replied warily.

"I am no _jester_, sir, I assure you." The stranger curled his lip in disdain. "I possess talents your 'jester' could never even dream of."

The guard considered for a moment; this man, with his haughty stance and beautiful features, could be a lord playing some strange game. If he refused him entry, it could be his hide on the line. However, something about him made the guard nervous and distrusting.

Still, he was not hired for his instincts.

"Alrigh' then. But if yoo cause any trouble, I'll 'ave your 'ead." The guard warned, stepping aside and yelling for the gates to be opened. The stranger smiled, revealing slightly pointed teeth.

"There's a good chap." He pulled his cloak about him and entered the castle, leaving the guard very worried about his job security.

...

Back in the oubliette, Jareth the Goblin King moaned. Walking through those gates would be the most important decision of his life. It would change everything for him. It would lead to incredible bliss, followed by utter devastation. It would haunt him, follow him for the rest of his days. His whole world was about to be tipped on its axis.

It was in that castle that he first met Sarah.


	3. The Garden

This chapter isn't that good either, I don't think, but it introduces two very important characters! I think, even though I've used their names, they may technically be OCs. But still. I hope you enjoy it!

Also, I forgot to do a disclaimer for the other two bits, so here it is: I own nothing, nothing, nothing tra la la. If I did, those tights wouldn't have lasted very long. In fact, all Jareth would have been wearing is a lascivious smile. And possible gold hotpants... I have a thing for them at the moment. They actually feature in another fic I'm writing. It's a hideous Batman parody. I wonder if Jude Law's ever worn them? Find me a picture, and I'll get chapters up extra fast. I did do a picture of him in them, but it shall never see the light of day. Anyway, review, precious things, and you shall have thirteen hours with Jareth in gold hotpants. And me? I've got Jude Law. Oh, and if you don't review? Hoggle. In the hotpants. You have been warned.

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Chapter Two

Sarah wandered among the flowers, smiling slightly as the tips of her fingers brushed the petals. She paused to smell the roses which had just come into bloom, filling the garden with heady scent.

She wore a white gown with a high waist and wide sleeves; it hugged her frame loosely, enough to show the curves which newly graced her youthful form. Pale green blossoms adorned the shoulders and the sash about her waist. Her dark hair spilled loosely down her back and shoulders, come free of its loose bindings. Sarah's eyes, green as the petals of the rose, were sad as she beheld the beauty of the garden; a beauty which was eclipsed by her own, and a beauty which, unbeknownst to her, was observed by two who hid in shadow.

As she bent to pick a long-stemmed rose, one of the watchers detached himself from the shadows, coming to stand beside her.

"The white roses smell the sweetest." Sarah jumped at the deep voice, pricking herself on a thorn.

"Ah!" She put the injured finger to her lips, sucking the blood which sprung forth. "Tobias, you frightened me!"

"I am sorry, sister. 'Twas not my intention. Here show me your wound." He held out his hand, and Sarah reluctantly surrendered her injured finger. He inspected it carefully, a smile tugging at his lips. "You shall live."

He kissed her finger gently, then placed her hand over his heart, covering it with his. His hair was dark also, curling blackly against his scalp. He was handsome, but his eyes were dark, as though he stayed awake all night with troubled thoughts and evil things. He was tall and strong, but there was a slight quiver to his lip. He appeared always to be brooding.

"Thankyou. I did not believe it otherwise." Sarah made to pull her hand away, but Tobias held it fast.

"You should not walk among the flowers, Sarah. You make them ugly, and I can gain no pleasure from them." He moved closer. "You should stay in your tower."

"My tower is plain. I find no pleasure in it."

"It is plain. That is why you should remain there; there is nothing in that tower to be spoilt by your beauty. How can tulips and tapestries hope to shine when you insist on walking amongst them? You eclipse them. Stay in your tower where you may shine alone, a beacon in the night." He cupped her face in his hand, bringing it to his.

"Tobias... Please, Tobias. I like to walk amongst the flowers." Sarah tried again to pull away, but to no effect. "Would you deny me that pleasure?"

"Would you deny the flowers theirs?" His grip tightened. "Would you strip paintings of their beauty, after the artists spend so long upon them?"

"Tobias, please. I know not of what you speak." Tears sprung to her eyes; she tried in vain to blink them away.

"You are a little witch. You sap the world of colour." He hissed, then softened as tears leaked from her eyes. "Do not cry, sister. Here, kiss me, and all shall be well."

"No, brother. You have hurt me." She wrenched her head out of his hand, turning her face away.

"You shall kiss your brother!" He pulled her face back towards him, rubbing away her tears roughly with his thumb. "When I am King, you shall die if you refuse me."

At that moment, a page-boy in scarlet livery ran up, tapping Tobias on the shoulder. "Your Highness, the King requests your presence."

"I shall be there shortly." He replied, letting go of Sarah. He hissed at her, "I do not wish to see you in the flower garden again," Then he turned on his heel and followed the page-boy.

Sarah sank to the ground, her knees giving way beneath her. Her hands trembled, and she sought about for her ladies-in-waiting. She found that her brother had sent them away; she was apparently alone.

The second watcher detached himself from the shadows. In a few brief strides, he was at Sarah's side, kneeling gracefully beside her. With bowed head, he proffered a single, red rose.

"Cry not, princess. Tears as precious as yours should not be wasted."

Sarah looked up in surprise. Here was the new minstrel who had joined the court that week; a handsome, mysterious man, with wild eyes and a voice of honeyed silver.

"Am I not to do anything I wish?" She said bitterly. "I have so few pleasures, let me at least have my sorrow."

"Any man who brings you sorrow is not a man at all," was the reply, spoken with soft sincerity. Sarah gasped, eyes widening.

"Say not such things! To do so is heresy!" She took the rose which the minstrel still held, regarding it sadly. "My brother is to become king. You must know this. You cannot say such things about him."

"My brother is also to be King some day." The man sat beside her, stretching his long, leather-clad legs in front of him. "I too felt trapped."

"Did your brother wish to possess you?" Sarah asked bitterly, inwardly startled by this new confession.

"No, he did not. He merely forgot about my existence until it suited him to remember it." She stranger pulled a flower from its stem and began to pull at the petals. "I was invisible to my entire kingdom."

"I wish I were invisible." Sarah lay back on the grass, dark hair fanning about her shoulders. She turned her head, regarding the stranger beside her thoughtfully. "Are you really a prince?"

"Yes, is the simple answer. I come from a kingdom very far away. I doubt any here will have heard of it." He finished pulling the petals from the flower, revealing a small, glittering jewel at its heart. "Take it."

"What is it?" Sarah gazed in wonder at the sparkling bauble.

"A crystal; nothing more." He offered it to her, a tiny, glittering thing in the palm of his hand. She reached to take it, but as soon as her fingers touched it, it transformed into a butterfly. She watched in awe as it flew away across the garden.

"Magic!" She gasped, then looked around nervously. "True witchcraft is punishable by death. You must not let anyone see."

"Fear not, Princess. That was for your eyes only." He watched her from under his lashes, smiling slightly. "I wanted to see you smile."

Sarah sighed, pushing herself to her feet. The stranger followed suit, following her as she resumed her wandering through the garden.

"This is the last time I shall walk among the flowers. My brother has forbidden me to return here."

"Your brother does not see how you radiate among the blossoms. He does not see how you compliment each other, thriving off each other's beauty." His voice was haughty and matter-of-fact.

"You speak pretty words for a minstrel and a prince, but I am sick to death of speaking only of my beauty." Sarah reached out to grasp a pink bud, crushing it delicately with her fingers.

"The bird does not wish to speak of its' cage?" The stranger asked knowingly.

"The bird sings of wide, blue skies and of flying far from home." Her eyes were filled with such sad melancholy that his heart almost melted.

"I will bring flowers to your chamber every day, if you so wish't." He murmured. "I will surround you with beauty, if you so ask for it."

"A gilded cage is still a cage." She whispered, turning her head to gaze at the sky. Somehow, she felt comfortable confessing to this beautiful stranger. "As long as my brother is here, I shall not be free. And when he is King... Then, I shall have no place to hide."

"Would you have freedom then? If your brother was gone?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice which made her shiver.

"No." She replied sadly. "I am a princess. My father expects me to marry a prince from a neighbouring country, to 'build strong bonds and prevent war'. It is my duty as a daughter to do as he wishes. Even if both he and my brother were gone, my duties as a woman would not just disappear. My body is a fortress from which I cannot escape."

"I will find the key. I will release you." His voice was determined, and Sarah looked at him curiously.

"What is your name, my minstrel prince?" She enquired.

"Jareth, Your Highness." He bowed low to her, tips of his blonde hair almost touching the ground.

"You really believe that you can free me?"

"I freed myself from my own gilt cage. Yours should prove no problem." He replied confidently, standing upright and locking eyes with her. "I give you my word."

Sarah flushed, unused to holding a man's gaze. She lowered her eyes hastily, then glanced back up to find Jareth still watching her, a curious expression on his face. She was struck suddenly by his beauty, almost unnatural in its perfection. She patted her dress nervously, toying with a strand of hair.

"Well Jareth, the wandering minstrel prince, I may just hold you to that promise." She smiled ruefully, the conviction in her voice tissue-paper thin. "But now I must leave the garden; I have wandered here too long, my brother must not return to find me here."

She turned to leave, but Jareth held up a hand to stop her. He brushed a hand against her collar, causing Sarah to shiver involuntarily. When she looked down, a blood-red rose with a white crystal centre was glimmering upon her gown. She looked up to thank Jareth, but he was gone.


	4. Hide and Seek

Hulloo, loyal readers. I'm uploading this earlier then intended, because it's either this, sit in my room listening to David Bowie, or watch Monster Shark vs. Giant Squid, or whatever the name of the crap movie my brother and father are watching is. So I chose you. Anyway, this chapter has, I think, little point, but there is kind of sort of plot advancement at the end, I think, and a couple of cute moments. And GAHSEARINGEMOTIONIAMBLATANTLYTRYINGTOMANIPULATEYOU moments. Speaking of which, I cried in school today. As did my teacher and two of my friends. We were watching The Colour Purple. But that is irrelevant. I shall stop talking now.

I own nothing, yadayada, gold hotpants, etc.

Reviews get chapters up faster! Plus, I'm an egotist. So review, precious things!

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Chapter Three

Jareth and Sarah had many brief encounters over the following few weeks. Whenever she was alone, in some cold hallway or dusty chamber, he would appear to brighten her day. He would always present her with some small token, whether it be a flower or a feather or a scrap of song. If she asked him why he did these things for her, he replied only that he liked to see her smile, and she was content with that. He brought joy and beauty to her dull world, and that was all Sarah needed.

In truth, Jareth was captivated with her. The women from his world were beautiful, more beautiful even than Sarah in mortal terms, but they were all the same. To Jareth, they all seemed insipid and silly, always smiling and laughing, caring for little more than their gowns and their hair. In daily life, the Fae were superficial creatures, seeking only pleasure, never pausing to consider pain. They could be cruel, yes, but it took extraordinary circumstances. Their retribution would be swift and terrible if needed. But their retribution was never called upon, because no one ever had need to break their rules. No reason could they see to dwell in darkness. Jareth hated their way of looking at life, as though all their world were seen through rose-tinted glasses.

To him, Sarah was almost a novelty. She was desperately sad, a caged thing, a bird with clipped wings. The poor little princess was a riddle, a puzzle he wanted to solve. Her big eyes and her dark hair against her alabaster skin, her soft, sad voice, her figure grown waifish with grief, all captivated him. He wanted to see her laugh, to hear her sing, to see her take pleasure in her surroundings. His heart tore to see her pout. To see tears in her eyes was to walk barefoot over fields of knives. The way she rattled around the palace made him ache, but he took it all gladly. He would willingly be dragged over hot coals for eternity if he could but once make her smile.

Jareth and Sarah walked down a cold, stone hall, talking softly together. Dressed in a simple gown of soft, silvery-grey velvet with wide sleeves that trailed along the ground, Sarah twirled a scarlet poppy between her fingers; her latest gift from Jareth. A dreamy, far-away expression was on her face as Jareth talked to her of foreign lands. They stopped to sit on a window ledge, golden sunlight streaming through the narrow opening. The small space forced them close together, and Sarah blushed deeply as their thighs touched. She imagined she could feel the warmth of his leg through her skirts; it burned her flesh deliciously.

"Tell me again of the East Kingdom." She commanded imperiously. Jareth laughed, a clear, ringing peal that made Sarah's spine tingle.

"Again, Princess?" He smiled as she nodded. "As you wish. Now, let me see... The East Kingdom is a vast, hot land. Red sand stretches for miles and miles in every direction, broken only by the occasional lush oasis. In the biggest oasis is the Kingdom's capital..."

Sarah listened happily to Jareth's tale, though she had heard it a dozen times before. The deep, soothing sound of his voice, with its strange accent and refined lilt, washed over her, making her drowsy. The golden sun on her skin did not help; its warmth seeped into her core, deliciously warm. Her head drooped, falling to rest on Jareth's shoulder.

He looked down in surprise, but did not cease his tale. He merely shifted slightly, placing a hand on the small of her back to better support her weight. A small shiver ran through her at his touch, and Jareth smiled.

"What is it like? Being a minstrel?" She murmured sleepily.

"Exhausting. You mortals are very fond of your 'hey nonny nonny's." He replied sardonically. In her drowsy state she didn't notice his small slip with the word 'mortal'.

"Is it really so bad?"

"No. it's wonderful. I've never felt so free in my life." Jareth looked out the window to the wide blue sky, smiling his pointy smile.

"I wish I could be free." Sarah murmured against his shoulder.

"You will be, precious thing. You will be." He assured her softly, drawing her close.

She looked up at him in wonder, hand splayed over his heart. His promise did not move her as much as his gesture, the strong arms around her. He had called her _precious_. She felt her heart skip a beat, then frowned.

"Do you think me beautiful?" She asked him accusingly. He looked down at her in surprise, eyes widening at the anger in her pale features.

"Why, Princess, whatever is the matter?" He purred, pouting slightly. "Have I offended you?"

"What do you care?" She spat, pushing him away. "You want only to trap me, to keep me caged so that you may look upon me at your will."

"I want no such thing." He growled, eyes glinting. "You deserve to be free. I shall never hold you against your will."

"Do you swear it?"

"Upon my life." He slipped off the window ledge and knelt at her feet, head bowed. "I will be your slave, should you so wish 't."

Sarah smiled crookedly, pleased with his answer. She patted the ledge beside her and Jareth sat obligingly. She moved back against him, cheek to his fluttering heart. He put an arm around her shoulders, lips grazing the top of her head. He would do anything it took to protect her, to free her, to make her happy.

"Shall we walk through the maze?" She asked after a time. "I hear they've put a new fountain in."

They stood, making their way to the palace gardens. In the centre was a little green hedge maze, an ornamental piece requested by the last Queen to satisfy some romantic whim. Jareth and Sarah wandered into its leafy labyrinth, laughing as they chased each other through the topiary. He wondered for a moment at the indignity of it all: chasing a mortal girl round a tortured shrub maze. His companions back home would be horrified. Then he laughed. He cared not for his old 'companions'. His heart sung to hear her happy giggles; her soul lifted to be engaged in some act of joy, the taste of freedom never having been so close.

Jareth followed the whipping of her skirts as they rounded corner after corner. For a moment he lost sight of her as she made a turn. When he saw her again, he stopped dead in his tracks; her brother held her tightly by the arm, face black with fury. Her head hung low, expression blank but eyes torturously mournful. Jareth stepped quickly back behind the hedge, flattening himself against its foliage.

"What have I told you about being in the garden?" Tobias hissed, voice shaking with anger. "You dare defy my orders?"

"I'm sorry, brother. I... I threw a jewel out of the window in a fit of rage. I merely came to collect it." Her voice was so forlorn as she lied that Jareth felt as though someone were squeezing his heart, trying to crush it inside his chest.

"You should not be so foolish." Tobias growled, shaking her. "If you lose jewels, I shall replace them. Don't let petty rage spoil my gardens."

"I'm sorry." She repeated mournfully.

"Return to your tower. Entertain yourself with your poetry and your drawings. Forget about the garden." He commanded.

"Yes, Tobias." She replied pitifully.

Jareth felt a black rage curling inside him, Tobias's face glowing white hot at its centre. He longed to rip the prince to shreds and scatter his body parts to the wind.

_No, I mustn't_, he thought. _If I kill a mortal, my people will know. They will demand retribution. Sarah will not be free._

"I searched for you. I sought you in your tower, but you weren't there." Jareth's ears pricked at Tobias's voice. "Then I saw you, here in the garden, and I thought you had betrayed me."

"Never. I would never betray you." Sarah murmured. "It shall not happen again."

"My dear, sweet sister. I do not believe it shall." He began to walk, pulling Sarah with him. "Come, we are needed in the palace. Father is ill."

"He is?" Sarah sounded terrified, eyes widening. "How ill? Shall he recover?"

"It is hard to tell. The physician says he fears the worst." He frogmarched her past where Jareth hid. "You must stay in your tower until further news comes. Do you understand?"

Sarah nodded weakly. She looked back to where Jareth was pressed into the hedge, meeting his gaze with eyes like deep wells of despair. At the rage and passion in his returning gaze she quivered. Oblivious, her brother dragged her on, and Jareth was soon out of sight. The look in his eyes, the raw emotion, made her feel weak. She was astounded her brother still lived; surely that hatred must be powerful enough to fell him where he stood. That expression haunted her.

And her eyes haunted Jareth.


	5. A Gilded Cage

It has been brought to my attention, I believe by Lunar Butterfly (I hope I remembered the right person) that I accidentally uploaded the last chapter twice. I sincerely apologise. Please accept this new chapter. It's a good one. Stuff happens. There's angst, and possibly metaphors. And declerations? Maybe. Anyway, I apologise again, I've fixed the mistake, please don't eat me.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Which, I think, is actually quite lucky.

I am addicted to reviews. If I can't get them, I may have to start taking proper drugs. And then you will be responsible for my downward spiral into substance abuse. And I can't write fan fics if I'm dead. It's your choice.

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Chapter Four

Sarah sat alone in her chamber at the top of her tower. The room was entirely pale grey stone, the monotony broken only by a spindly writing desk, a small fireplace and a large four-post bed. The bed was covered in grey blankets and furs. The only colour was a vase of flowers which had arrived courtesy of Jareth the day before, providing some slight relief. Her brother had stripped this area of the castle of all adornment, insisting that Sarah was beautiful enough for the whole tower. The servants were made to wear grey if coming to this section of the palace. It was a cheerless place.

Sarah was sketching, using a piece of charcoal which left smudges all over her hands. Her careful strokes formed a room that was not a room, a place where stone walls fell through a dark sky. Her thoughts were troubled.

Her father, the King, had been ill for some time, but the night before he had taken a turn for the worst. Banished to her tower, Sarah waited for news. She felt no hope; she did not expect him to live, and things never seemed to exceed her expectations.

There was a knocking at her chamber door. Sarah started, smudging her drawing. She bade the knocker enter.

"My Lady, your father..." A maid stood in the doorway, face shining with tears. "Milady, the King is dead."

"Then Tobias is King." Sarah said plainly. "You may leave."

"Milady, your brother- The King wishes to see you." The maid looked nervously about her, wringing her hands.

"I know. I shall come soon enough." Sarah waved the girl away, turning back to her ruined drawing. As soon as she heard the door close, she put her head in her arms and cried. Her tears blurred the charcoal lines further, until her sketch was reduced to a wet, black smudge.

"Someone save me, someone take me away from this awful place!" She sobbed pitifully to the empty room.

Another knock sounded at her door; Sarah sat up quickly, wiping her eyes. It would not do for anyone to see her crying.

"Enter." She commanded, managing to keep the grief from her voice.

It was Jareth who strode into her room, taking three long steps towards her and kneeling at her feet.

"I heard the news, Your Highness. Your brother is now King."

"Yes, and he wishes me to go to him." Sarah gazed out of the window, expression devastating. "He is my sovereign now; I can no longer refuse his demands. I am his to do with as he pleases."

"You belong to no-one." Jareth murmured, raising his head to gaze into her eyes. "Your will is strong. Do not lose hope now."

"What would you have me do?" She cried. "I cannot refuse him, I cannot! He will put me to death! Would you have me die for him?"

"I would never." Jareth hissed, his voice dangerous. "He shall not lay a finger upon you."

"It is not your place." Sarah spat bitterly. "Do you think a wandering minstrel can really stop the will of the King? You are nothing to him."

"Sarah, I can take you away from here. My will is as strong as his, and my kingdom as great. I dare say my will is stronger and my kingdom greater. He is no match for me."

Sarah regarded him sceptically. He was filled with arrogant confidence, even as he knelt before her. His promise to protect her was given with conviction. And yet... Every time she had felt hope, it had been crushed, like a flower beneath the heel of a heartless man. Life had taught her not to hope, not to dream, because dreams were folly. They only led to heartbreak. Life was pointless, a mocking masquerade of jerking motions and false gestures. She was just a marionette upon the stage, the plaything of society. Why should she believe that this golden-haired stranger would bring release? What evidence did she have that this time would be different?

"Sarah, do you trust me?" He implored.

"I trust no one but myself." She replied.

"Then look into yourself and tell me: do you wish to leave this place?" He placed a gentle finger beneath her chin, tilting her head delicately to look into her eyes.

"Of course." She murmured softly. "But-"

"Hush." Jareth moved his finger, placing it over her lips. "I will take you away from here. It will take time, but you shall be free. I give you my word."

"And can your word be trusted?" She murmured against his finger.

"Of course." He stood, and Sarah stood with him. "Go to your brother now, and congratulate him. Tell him everything that he wishes to hear. There will be time to mourn your father. Wait for me; you shall be free."

Jareth strode from the room, pausing in the doorway to glance back at Sarah. She stood in the middle of her cheerless room, a pretty bird in a gilded cage. He half expected her to take flight, beating white wings against the walls in a desperate bid to be free. In her eyes shone the tiniest glimmer of hope, hope that he had put there, and it made her more beautiful than Jareth had ever seen her. He yearned to encourage that little spark, to blow on it until it caught, to stoke that little fire until it roared. She had captivated him, first with her beauty, then with her sad eyes. Her heart was so carefully tucked away that it made him ache. She should not be trapped. He wanted to open the doors of her cage and let her fly free, away into the blue sky.

He turned, making his way down the tower stairs, leaving Sarah to follow of her own accord.


	6. The Masquerade

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the next devastating chapter, in which Sarah makes a decision based on duty. Silly thing. Oh, and I forgot to mention, Tobias' appearance is based of Joaquin (or whatever) Phoenix and his role in _Gladiator_. I should have mentioned that sooner... His character is also somewhat influenced by the same. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

I own nothing. I just make it all angsty 'n' stuff. Some dialogue is lifted from David Bowie songs and the film. The poem Sarah recites is called _The Angel_, by William Blake.

Want the next chapter? Then review!

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Chapter Five

King Tobias's coronation was a sumptuous affair; the palace was decked in finery, every surface glistening. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, Persian rugs coated the floors, every surface was covered in fine fabrics or precious jewels. No expense had been spared.

The banquet itself took the form of a masquerade ball. All the members of the royal court, lords, ladies and servants alike, were clad in rich finery. Wrists, throats and fingers were weighed down with jewels, opals and diamonds, rubies and emeralds, in casings of gold and silver. There were gowns and evening coats of silk and muslin, satin and velvet, embroidered with rich thread. Pearls and semi-precious stones formed buttons and clasps. The ladies' hair towered above their heads in elaborate confections, held in place with nets of gold, combs of mother-of-pearl, ostrich feathers that tickled the noses of whoever was unfortunate enough to be standing behind them.

Enormous gold platters of food were brought forth, weighed down with ripe fruits, suckling pigs, hams and cakes and jellies and a peacock that had been skinned, roasted and put back inside its' feathers to serve as a centre piece on the new king's table. There were jugs of cool cider, mulled wine, mead, juice, and sparkling champagne.

Jugglers and fire-breathers and magicians and acrobats weaved their way through the crowds, inciting gasps of astonishment at their amazing feats. A full orchestra played music to which people were dancing, hidden in an alcove behind a tapestry depicting St. George's defeat of the dragon.

King Tobias sat in his throne, watching the displays beneath him and sipping red wine from a silver goblet. He rested his head in his hand, smirking behind fingers laden with jewels. He was wearing a purple velvet tunic embroidered with a gold fleur-de-lis, silvery-grey breeches and a blood-red capelet lined with mink. He wore a heavy mask of gold filigree set with rubies. To his left sat Sarah, in a white gown with a full skirt and sleeves that puffed out at the shoulders, coming in above the elbow and ending in points on the back of her hands. The fabric shimmered in the light, with subtle embellishments adorning it. Her hair was down, held off her face with an ornate headdress which twisted through her dark locks. She had been wearing a silver swan mask, but her brother had taken it, saying she would not 'deprive us of your beauty'. She smiled politely, but her eyes were unfathomably sad.

"I am supposed to find myself a bride against this merry party." Her brother confided in her conspiratorially. "Tell me, do you see any who match your beauty? Do any come equal to your charms?"

"I'm sure you will find someone fit to be your queen." Sarah assured him. "No woman is too good for you."

"No woman." He gave new weight to her words, eyes growing dark as he regarded her from under black lashes. Then his eyes brightened again and he took a swig from his glass. "Come, sister. You must dance! Walk among them, and I shall see if any are as pretty as you."

Obligingly, Sarah stood. Out of nowhere, am arm presented itself to her. She looked up in surprise to see Jareth, dressed in a stunning jacket of blue velvet, blue highlights in his golden hair, a red devil's mask in his hand. She took his arm and he led her to the centre of the floor, casting aside his mask upon the way. He took her by the waist, pulling her close. She gazed up at him in wonder as they swept across the floor, other couples moving out of their way.

"You look a like a prince tonight." She said softly.

"Does it please you?"

"Does what please me?"

"Anything."

"If it does, it shan't for long." Sarah looked up the where her brother watched them, his expression unfathomable.

"There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes." Jareth murmured, soft voice a song.

"Jareth... I cannot." She whispered, casting down her eyes.

"Hush, Sarah. Fear not." He pulled her closer, soft breath stirring her hair. "You are safe with me."

"Jareth, please. I cannot go with you." Her eyes glistened. "I must stay here. My duty is to my people and to- and to my sovereign."

"Sarah..." Jareth sighed. "You know not what you say. If you stay here, you doom yourself to a life of despair. A half-life, a false-life. I offer you freedom. I can release you. Everything I've done, I've done for you. If you say run, I'll run with you, and if you say hide, we'll hide. Look at what I'm offering you, Sarah: your dreams."

"My dreams are folly." A single tear trickled from her eye. Jareth caught it on the tip of his finger, where it glistened like a jewel. They both watched as it slid from his finger to the floor, trampled quickly beneath the feet of bawdy dancers.

"So be it." Jareth let her go, disappearing quickly among the dancers. His voice wafted back to her, fading. "But should you ever need me... Say your right words, and you shall be free."

Sarah looked desperately among the crowds, but he had melted into nothing. Her shoulders sagged as she turned, making her way back up to sit beside her brother.

"Who was that man you danced with?" Tobias enquired as she sat. "I did not recognise him."

"Some lord or other." Sarah replied, falsely flippant. Her eyes misted over with tears. "No ne of interest."

"What is amiss, my sister?" Her brother asked, voice concerned. "This is a jolly occasion, be not sad!"

"Nothing is amiss, Your Majesty." She murmured, forcing a smile to her lips.

"Come, recite something for me. That ought to bring a smile to your eyes." He gestured at her with gold-covered fingers, biting into a piece of fruit.

"Your Majesty, there are minstrels and bards here aplenty."

"I have given you an order, Sarah. Do you defy me?" His eyes darkened.

"No, Your Majesty." Sarah sighed. "Do you have any requests?"

"Poetry, I think."

Sarah straightened, folding her hands in her lap. She spoke slowly, enunciating every word as she had been taught. She spoke without passion, all emotions beginning to curl away inside her, locked away where no-one could find them.

"_I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?  
And that I was a maiden Queen  
Guarded by an Angel mild:  
Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!_

_And I wept both night and day,  
And he wiped my tears away;  
And I wept both day and night,  
And hid from him my heart's delight._

_So he took his wings and fled,  
Then the morn blushed rosy red  
I dried my tears, and armed my fears  
With ten-thousand shields and spears._

_Soon my Angel came again;  
I was arm'd, he came in vain,  
For the time of youth was fled,  
And grey hairs were on my head._"

As she finished, she turned to her brother, face a smiling mask of cold stone.

"Was that good enough for Your Majesty?" She enquired sweetly.

"Indeed." Her brother regarded her warmly, a curious expression in his eyes.

He was silent for a few moments, eating ravenously. Then he turned to her, stroking her cheek with a thick finger. She closed her eyes, a small shiver running through her.

"This shall be your last dance." Tobias murmured. "These people are not worthy of your face. You shall remain in your tower."

Sarah nodded, face blank. "As you wish."

He smiled, pleased. With a rough hand he patted her head before returning to his plate of food. She sat straight, rigid and cold as stone. Every second the ice crept further into her heart, her reactions becoming increasingly the wooden movements of a poor actor without motivation for his false lines. Her face became a cold mask, performing its rituals without emotion. The only true feeling that showed in her face now was the tiniest spark of hatred that flared momentarily at her brother's touch or spoken word.

Sarah had rejected hope.


	7. The Hunter and the Prey

This is the chapter the entire fic has been working towards. You see, this thing, in particular this chapter, is based on a dream I had. The details are significantly different, but the basic thing is the same. Also, I think it would help if you imagined Toby as being a little older than Sarah. I know a lot of people have been saying he's a little brat, but he's so much more... Anyway, enjoy! Oh, and I should probably say, that as much as I hate him, my own brother is mercifully nothing like this.

I own nothing. I just mess it up.

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Chapter Six

People finally began leaving the great hall either very, very late or in the very, very early hours of the next morning, when the sun was still just a whisper on the wind. Sarah slipped away, a cold, white ghost moving unnoticed through decadent halls. She wandered a time through the palace, forcing her emotions to die. With each step her wretched soul sunk further in upon itself like a collapsing star. Her heart twisted and folded, trying to make itself disappear.

Sarah's troubled thoughts were interrupted by footsteps behind her. She spun around to find Tobias staggering madly towards her.

"Your Majesty." She curtsied low, face expressionless. "You should be resting."

"Don't tell me what to do, insolent wench!" He roared, staggering forth and grabbing her by the hair. "Take it back. Take it back!"

"Please..." She whimpered, scalp burning. His expression softened and he pulled her upright, placing an arm around her waist.

"My darling sister... Give your brother a kiss." He leant her face close to hers, breath reeking. "A proper one."

Sarah pecked his cheek obligingly. With a roar, he threw her to the ground. She landed heavily with a gasp, breath knocked out of her.

"I said a _kiss_, Sarah! You shall kiss your brother!" He pulled her roughly to her feet. "Embrace me properly, like a true bride."

"Please, Your Majesty. Leave me be." Her voice shook, but her face remained impassive. "You are tired, you must rest."

"There again, that defiance! You would disobey your king?" He yelled at her. "You shall be hung for treason!"

"Tobias! What would Father think?" She implored desperately. "This is no way for you to behave!"

"You are right." He hissed, voice dangerously low. "Hanging is too good for you. What should your punishment be, hm? Shall I put you on the racks and stretch you until your limbs snap from their sockets? Shall I nail you to the cross like Jesus Christ the Saviour? Or should I just ravish you, perhaps? What would you be worth if no longer a maiden?"

He leered at her, and she began to slowly back away. Tobias lunged, causing Sarah to shriek and jump backwards. He fell, landing flat on his face with a loud grunt. She turned and fled as he pulled himself to his feet, cursing savagely.

"You'll pay for that, little bitch!" He roared, making chase. "I'll make you scream for mercy!"

Sarah ran desperately through the palace, silk slippers skidding on marble floors. She held her skirts high, not daring to look behind her. She could hear her brother's footsteps pounding behind her, his voice savagely yelling her name. The few guests and servants still lingering about threw themselves out of the way, shocked faces watching the pursuit. Sarah slipped, picked herself up, removed her shoes with desperate, clumsy movements. Then she ran again, glancing back to see Tobias gaining on her, a shining sword in his angry fist. Sarah found a flight of stairs, running up them two at a time. There was no torchlight here, and she ran blindly through the blackness. She stumbled again, twisting her ankle, but did not stop; her brother still pursued her through the dark.

Then there were no more stairs beneath her feet and she fell, hitting the floor hard and tasting blood. Tobias tripped over her and sprawled roughly on the ground, cursing loudly. There was the sound of metal hitting stone as his sword clattered out of his hand. Sarah pulled herself along the floor away from him, ankle throbbing. She felt his hand grasp for her and she kicked out, foot connecting with flesh. There was a wet _crunch_ and her brother swore, letting go of her ankle.

"You'll pay, little bitch. You'll pay." He screamed, voice shrill. "I will rip to shreds! I'll make you wish you were dead!"

"I already do." She whispered, pulling herself further away from Tobias's ragged breaths.

"Sarah, my darling sister..." His voice changed, becoming a soft coo. "Don't hurt me so! Come, let's make up, shall we? Give your brother a kiss, all will be well!"

She froze like a frightened rabbit, wary of this sudden change. Then she heard loud scrabbling noises and his fist closed around her thin ankle like a vice. She shrieked, trying to pull away, but he merely dragged her closer. His hands grasped her shoulders, and she could feel his hot breath on her face. His weight was suddenly pressed upon her, uncomfortable, stifling, suffocating.

"I shall make you my bride, Sarah. You shall be my Queen." He hissed. "You will have jewels, gowns, anything you could possibly wish for. You shall live in your tower, my pretty little nightingale. My beautiful sister."

His lips mashed her face roughly, causing her to squirm. He licked her cheek, trying to find her mouth. The weight of his body pressed her into the floor, crushing her. She dug her nails into his arms, but he paid no heed.

"Jareth, I need you!" Sarah called, voice a savage shriek that tore at her throat.

Desperately she kicked against her brother, pale legs flailing. With a sudden stroke of luck she hit him in the tenderest of places and he rolled off, groaning.

Sarah stumbled to her feet, gasping deep shuddering breaths now that she was no longer suffocated beneath his weight. Grey light now seeped into the tower room, and she recognised it as her own heartless chamber. The captive, tormented within her own cage.

Tobias was beginning to recover. He staggered to his feet, retrieving the sword which he had dropped. Sarah backed away, finding herself up against the window.

"Tobias, please. You don't want to do this." She pleaded, voice shaking with fear. Even as she said the words, she realised they were pointless; his eyes were no longer human, taken over with a primal, animal rage.

"Sarah..." His voice was hoarse, one hand massaging his wounded groin. "I ask for so little; just let me rule you."

"Never." Sarah tilted her chin defiantly.

"Just fear me, love me, do as I say." He growled, sword tip extending toward her throat. "Please, sister?"

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the world outside her window. The sun had just come over the horizon, bathing the surrounding woodland in red and gold. The mountains in the distance were crimson with its' light. The river sparkled with gold as it snaked through the kingdom, like some wondrous great dragon. It was the most beautiful sight Sarah had ever seen.

With steady hands, she undid the latch on her window. Cool morning breeze washed over her, cooling the sweat brought on by the chase. Turning back to regard her brother, Sarah flung wide the windows behind her. A sudden breeze picked up her skirts and her hair. With the sun behind her and her gown flapping, hair waving about her face, she looked down upon her brother like some terrible angel. In that moment, with blood pouring from his nose –the result of her earlier struggles- and sword pointed at her, she found him not fearful, but comical. A wry smile played upon her lips.

"What say you?" Tobias growled. "Will you be my bride?"

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. The scent of pine needles and the wide unknown filled her nostrils, and she smiled, a true smile. Her eyes opened and she regarded her brother, lips curling into a sneer. She barked a short, harsh laugh and spat in his face as she stepped backwards.

Her brother's eyes widened in shock, and she laughed as she fell.

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*ahem* MWAHAHAHAHA!

*holds out next chapter* Do you want it, my lovelies? Then review like you've never reviewed before! I take sadistic pleasure in this. You have three days.


	8. Falling

Here it is, a day earlier than planned. I would like to say because I'm nice, but that would be lying. Not even my sadistic side can compete with my ego; I really am addicted to reviews. Clearly, my will is nowhere near as great as it should be.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. But now, I keep thinking about gold hotpants for no apparent reason. Especially when I think of Jude Law. Which is just weird... I think. Enjoyable, but weird.

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Chapter Seven

Sarah fell forever.

The wind rushed past her, tugging at her skirts. They streamed above her like the gossamer tail of some strange comet. The ice she had wrapped around her heart melted, leaking from her body in a stream of tears, salty droplets flying behind her. Sarah felt weightless, even as she plummeted. Her insides had turned to nothing, and she felt suddenly empty. Her limbs waved and her hair streamed about her face. This was the price of freedom.

Fear suddenly gripped her; she reached upwards, clawing desperately at the air. A scream tore at her throat, ripped away by the wind before it had barely passed her lips. Sarah's eyes searched desperately for something to cling to, something to save her. Her brother was turning away, leaving her window. The walls of the tower were sheer, nothing there to break her fall. Finally, her eyes latched onto a figure at the very top of the tower.

Bathed in golden light, he stood on the parapets, looking down. His arms rose gracefully above his head and he dived, body pointed towards her. A white cloak streamed about his shoulders like wings, golden hair flowing past his face.

Sarah reached a hand towards him. He was close now, impossibly close. She whimpered pitifully, consumed with terror. Somehow he had turned himself around, plummeting feet-first instead of diving. He spread his arms wide, cloak-wings billowing. Sarah saw his face changing, flattening, his body shrinking. She felt her own body change, her dress turning to gossamer and merging with her skin till it shone a pearly white. She began to shrink, limbs changing, body morphing into something small and no longer human. The last thing she saw was an owl's face, its claws wrapping around her tiny body.

...

When Sarah awoke, she was in warm arms. Soft grass was beneath her feet, a gentle light upon her face. The injuries she had sustained were miraculously healed, and she felt better than she ever had before.

"Am I dead?" She murmured. If this was death, then she'd take it gladly.

"No, precious thing. You're safe." A velvety voice replied. She looked up into the beautiful face of Jareth, a pained smile on his refined features.

"You rescued me." She said, surprised, green eyes widening.

"You called me." He purred, stroking her face with a delicate finger. "So I came."

"Where are we?" She pushed herself reluctantly out of Jareth's chest to look around. Sunlight streamed through dark pines onto grassy forest floor.

"In the woods outside the palace." His voice was tense, his hands clenched against her back.

"Jareth..." She pushed back his golden hair with a trembling hand. "Jareth, what's wrong?"

"I thought you were lost to me." His eyes were filled with some unfathomable emotion; the weight of his stare made her shake. "I thought he'd killed you."

"I jumped. To escape him." She took his face in her hands, smoothing his knotted brow. "I am safe."

"I thought he'd run you through." Jareth choked, melting beneath her touch. "I thought..."

"Hush, love. All is well." She brushed her lips timidly against his cheek, trying to soothe him.

He groaned, folding her into his arms and holding her close. He whispered her name over and over into her hair, caressing her back, arms, face. Proving to himself that she was real, she was here, she was safe and well.

"How did you save me?" She asked after a time. "I fell so fast, and so far. How could you have stopped me?"

"I turned you into a little mouse and grasped you in my claws." He told her, smiling ruefully. "Then I flew you here and turned you back. Simple."

"How? How did you do it?" She searched his face frantically, looking for some secret, the truth behind the trick. "My injuries are healed as well. Is that your doing?"

"Magic." He conjured a crystal in his palm, gesturing for an amazed Sarah to look into its depths.

Inside, she saw herself, falling, falling, falling down, Jareth diving from the parapets after her. She saw the agonised look on his face as he fought to reach her, the moment when he was close enough to pull up, his miraculous transformation. She saw too her changes, her dress melding with her flesh, her limbs shrinking until she was impossibly small, a tiny, frail thing. She saw owl-Jareth grasp her in his claws, pull out of his kamikaze dive and soar them both to the forest.

The crystal disappeared in a burst of diamond dust and she looked in awe at the man who held her.

"Things are not always as they seem." He informed her wryly, brushing the glitter from her gown.

"So what now?" She asked simply.

"Revenge." Jareth hissed, face growing black with rage. "I shall make the hateful cretin scream for mercy."

"No!" Sarah cried, flinging her arms around his neck. She looked sternly into his eyes. "You shall not touch him."

"Sarah, my love, how can you say such things after all he has done to you?" He growled. "I have been generous up until now, but I can be cruel. I have not harmed him, for your sake, but his heart is black as sin, and half as sweet. He deserves to suffer."

"I will not have him writhing in pain by your hand, Jareth. It would tear my soul in two to witness."

"Then do not watch." His velvety voice was harsh.

"Please, Jareth. For my sake, do not harm him." She begged.

"You know not what you ask! I cannot sit by again, now that you are free of his clutches."

"But you are not free of mine." She said fiercely, entwining her fingers tightly in his hair. "While there is breath left in me, you shall not harm him."

"Do not defy me." He growled, voice dangerously low. She flinched, and he immediately regretted his words.

"You want to control me." She spat at him accusingly, pulling herself roughly from his grasp.

"What would you have me do?" He implored, kneeling before her. "I cannot leave him alone, yet you forbid me from touching him. You tear me apart, precious thing."

"Get up, Jareth." She sighed, features softening. "We will think of a plan, if we must. But you shall not lay a finger upon him without my permission."

"Of course not." He smiled wolfishly. "So may I have your permission?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. Jareth grinned his pointed grin, standing and pulling her into his chest. He stroked her hair gently, feeling her heart flutter against his chest. Her hand slid up his abdomen, coming to rest over his heart. It hammered beneath her gentle touch. They stood like that for what seemed like an age, still as though they were carved from the earth itself.

He began to plan his retribution.

* * *

Author's Note: This is where I need you! The fic is pretty much finished, so I know how it ends, but what I don't know is how Jareth gets his revenge. That chapter is missing from the story. Suggestions are more than welcome, they are begged for. Please leave a contribution in the little box.


	9. The Lion's Den

I just finished this chapter, right then. It's a little brief, but it provides the precursor to revenge. It also contains me trying yet again to find a way to say 'glitter' without actually saying it. Which is becoming increasingly difficult. It's not a very manly substance, as fun as it may be. Last Monday I covered myself in gold glitter in art, and spent the rest of the day telling people I'd been attacked by a unicorn. This also led to a ten-minute argument in the tuckshop (canteen, for all you Yankees) line about whether or not unicorns can gore people. Which they can. A week later, and it's still turning up everywhere... Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, yes. Revenge. I only had two people give me suggestions, so I will try and utilise (big word) both their ideas. Also, they get super dooper ultra chocolate chip virtual cookies, and you do not.

Sorry this has taken a while to get up, I've been waiting for more suggestions. Plus, I'm lazy. I'll try and get the next chapter up ASAP.

Disclaimer: I own nothing excpet the bumbling guards and the very dodgy 'court' accent. If I did own everything... Well, I think I've warned you about that.

Oh, and in regards to Toby's rooms... well, let's just say there are an awful lot of words for 'red' out there, and I used a fair bunch of 'em. I was having a Cecilia Dart-Thornton moment (she's an Australian fantasy author. If she cut out even half the description, her books would be about a hundred pages long. Instead, they're about a bajillion).

* * *

Chapter Eight

Jareth and Sarah edged cautiously down a cold hallway towards Tobias' chambers. It was a week after his coronation banquet, and they had kept out of sight by disguising themselves as servants using Jareth's magic. He detested it immensely, and it was only the look on her face that stopped him from bursting into the grand hall and destroying the wayward King with a burst of light and flames and sparkling dust.

Princess Sarah's 'death' was gossiped about at every corner. King Tobias breathed not a word about his sister, and had forbidden anyone else from doing so, but not even fear of his vengeful wrath could prevent it. Rumours flew around the castle like sparrows around breadcrumbs, always careful to avoid the fat, clawed cat hiding in the shadows. Why was there no funeral? Where was the body? Did she run off with that no-good but ever–so-dashing minstrel? Did the king have her locked in some secret dungeon? Was she really just hiding away in her tower, mourning the death of her father like some petty little ingrate? Had the king killed her?

No, he couldn't, he never would, not the king, and even if 'e did, you shouldn't say such things, 'cause that's treason, an' he don't like treason, not ol' King Tobias, no sir, you 'eard wot 'appened to Mary las' week, righ', nasty ol' business, 'ad it comin' the little thing, if you ask me, but let's leave it at that, shall we, an' jus' say that the king ain't never done no one a spot of 'arm, 'less they 'ad it comin' to 'em. And that's enough of that.

If truth be told, even in the mere week he had been in power, King Tobias had done an awful lot of people an awful lot of harm. As much as the rumour mill kept turning, no one dared to breath a word of ill against the king. He was a tyrant, and at only a week in power he had already began to twist the kingdom into something black and evil and full of hatred.

That was why Sarah and Jareth had to try so hard to stop him.

Tobias' chambers were in the tallest tower of the castle's east wing, a grey stone monolith that was beginning to look increasingly like the gnarled finger of a bloated battle corpse. The chambers themselves were large and sumptuous, decorated with crimson, velvet chaises and scarlet silks, tapestries of carmine and garnet, red gold candlesticks adorned with rubies, furs dyed vermilion and titian. An enormous four-poster bed of cherry wood took up most of one room, adjoined by a study containing several mahogany bookshelves holding innumerable volumes of illicit material, bound in burgundy leather. There was also a large rosewood desk and a fireplace made from painstakingly small pieces of rose quartz. A large, savage Red Setter dozed lazily on the hearth, when not trotting at its' master's heels.

Tobias was currently sleeping in his enormous bed, muscular chest bare and legs covered with burgundy sheets of the finest satin. Jareth knew this because he had sent a crystal rolling inconspicuously past the guards that the paranoid king kept stationed all over his tower.

Jareth and Sarah edged their way down the hall, so far remaining out of sight of the guards. Her heart beat a frantic staccato against her chest, and she clung desperately to Jareth's hand. She did not like the idea of entering the lion's den at all.

Once, when she was younger, Sarah had accompanied her father on one of his hunting trips. She had seen a man mauled to death by a newly-woken bear, at the tender age of eleven. It was not an experience she wished to relive.

When they were far enough along the hallway that they could not possibly proceed any further unnoticed, Jareth turned to Sarah and whispered quietly to her. "Now, precious, I need you to stay quiet. Don't draw any attention to yourself; my glamour is not strong enough to hide us _both_ in plain sight."

She nodded, smiling weakly. Jareth smiled back, brushing her forehead with his lips. Then he strode out of the shadows, adopting an authorative look. He had changed his clothes and face so that he resembled one of the head guardsmen, and it was with the man's deep, rumbling baritone that he addressed the drowsy guards.

"Gentlemen!" He barked roughly.

The two men jumped, snapping to attention with bewildered expressions. "Sir!" They replied hastily.

"There's bin a bit o' trouble down in th' cour'yard." Jareth informed them in his rumbling new voice. "I want you lads to go an' sor' it out."

"Bu' sir… we've bin stationed 'ere!" On of the guards cried.

"Are you disobeyin' a direct order, boy?" Jareth yelled. "Insolent li'le pup! I'll 'ave your guts fer gar'ers!" He had become quite fond of that expression over the past week.

"No, sir! Jus'… Well, the King'd be awfool mad if 'e woke up an' we wasn' 'ere." The guard replied desperately.

"Look, you sno'y li'le piece o' swine, you does wot I tells you to, go' it? Cus if you don't, then 'is Majes'y's gonna be righ' mad that you ain' done your du'y an' let 'is courtyard get all messed up." Jareth was beginning to enjoy himself. "Now, 'oo was it tha' displeased 'im las' time? An' wot 'appened to 'im?"

"Yessir!" The men cried in unison, scrabbling off down the hallway. They'd both heard the screams, both seen the mangled remains that resulted from one of their colleagues displeasing the king.

With a wave of his hand Jareth returned himself to normal. He grinned wickedly after the two hapless guards, then beckoned to Sarah. Together, they entered the blood-red chambers of King Tobias.


	10. Vendetta

In which Tobias reveals his true nature, the author uses too much alliteration, Sarah is clumsy, and Jareth is totally awesome and epic and cool for about five paragraphs.

or

In which the author gets a little chaotic, and reveals herself once again to be a horrible person.

Please remember that Toby is only half-awake. You see/hear strange things at this time. Doesn't mean they're real ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. No one in their right minds would give me the rights to something involving both tight pants AND David Bowie. Or even one of those two.

Review precious things, and you shall have yourself another chapter! But maybe not too quickly; I found out today that my maths assignment is due Friday. Today is Wednesday. I thought I had another week...

Also, palace guards are complete twits. Never in the right place at the right time, and always getting in the way. That's my excuse; it's them, not me. Anything else? Probably not. I'll sod off now though, just in case I do think of something, and feel the need to rant on about unicorns or dinosaurs or some such. Actually, now that I mention it... No, no, there's a plot to be had and assignments to (not) do. Hooroo!

* * *

A few flames sputtered in crimson candle stubs, their flickering shadows making the red room appear to pulse, like the chambers of some hideous heart. As the walls pulsed, they whispered, speaking of unutterable evils, of dark places and cruel faces and hands that scratched and tore and touched things they weren't meant to touch.

Or so it felt to Sarah.

She hung timidly at the door while Jareth strode forward to loom menacingly at the king's bedside. Tobias snored, turning over in his sleep. Jareth leant over his prostrate form until his lips were a hair's breadth from Tobias's ear; he whispered something, a single word that Sarah didn't catch, and was probably not meant to. The king's eyes opened.

What Tobias saw was something no mortal was ever meant to see; a beautiful, terrible creature clad in the black of nightmares, eyes glowing with ancient power, mere expression a promise of all the fury of Heaven and Hell in one fell swoop. Half-awake, Tobias thought he saw the walls bleed, dragons tongues lick furls of flames from the shadows, demons dancing in the darkness. Terror made him sweat and cry and befoul himself. Then the avenging angel spoke, and it was the voice of God and the Devil and every creature or man who had ever held the power to influence people, to bend them to their will with the weight of their words alone.

_DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM_. The voice said, and Tobias sobbed and shook his head.

_YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE_. Tobias trembled, trying to distance himself from the terrible figure.

_YOU WILL PAY_. Tobias let out a little shriek, putting his hands together to beg.

_SILENCE. RETRIBUTION SHALL BE HAD_. The figure held out a glass orb, clear as a mountain stream. He sobbed, shaking with terror as he gazed into the crystal. He felt its' pull, felt it sucking him in, until he was completely absorbed it its' sparkling depths.

What Sarah saw was this; Jareth, clad in black armour, towering over her cowardly brother. He spoke, and she heard him, but she did not hear words. Then he held out a crystal, and her brother was sucked into it, his body stretching like a scream in the darkness. For the first time, Sarah felt a little intimidated by Jareth; his was truly a power of which she knew nothing.

In his hand, Jareth held a crystal. The bed was empty.

"Now to have some fun." He grinned wickedly, and Sarah smiled back.

…

Halfway to the courtyard, King Tobias' guards met up with the head guardsman they had seen earlier.

"Wot are you two layabou's doin' down 'ere?" He barked at them. "You is apposed to be guardin' the King!"

"But… But you said… We was just…" The stammered, eyes wide.

"I ain't said nuffin'! Get back up ter tha' tower, or it'll be 'ell to pay!" He bellowed.

"But Sir… You told us there was trouble in the courtyard!" One of the guards cried exasperatedly.

"I sed no such fing." The guardsman snarled.

"Then 'oo…"

"Sounds to me like you boys 'ave bin 'ad." The guardsman grunted.

"Then… that means… the King…" The three of them looked at each other.

Then they started to run.

…

Tobias found himself in a dark, grey chamber. There were no windows, doors or openings of any kind. The walls and floor appeared to be made from some kind of continuous, cool, grey stone with no visible joins anywhere. He was still wearing his soiled sleeping apparel, his arms and torso bare to the cold of the chamber.

"What is this place?" He cried to the dark stone.

"It's an oubliette." A disembodied voice informed him pleasantly. Something told him it was the same voice as before, but in a much better mood. Probably because it had him right where it wanted him.

"Wh-who are you?" Tobias stammered, whipping his head around to look for the owner of the velvety voice.

"No-one of concern."

"Wh-why are you d-doing this?" His voice shook, a tiny, pitiful sound.

"Because you are a coward, and a bully, and a fiend." The voice replied, taking on a hard edge that made Tobias shake. "And a _murderer_."

"I-I never! I swear!" Tobias shrieked, his great sin revealed.

"I saw her fall, you pitiless swine. I heard her screams. I know everything that you've done." The voice was full of menace, like an acid-edged blade.

"G-God?" He asked timidly. A hard, caustic laugh rang out.

"Not quite."

"Then who?"

"Someone you wish never existed." Came the reply.

"Please, I didn't mean to!" He sobbed.

"Don't lie to me, you miserable wretch." The voice snapped.

"It was her fault! I swear it!" Tobias' voice took on a hard edge of its' own. "She shouldn't have disobeyed me! It's her fault!"

There was a snarl so filled with hatred that it made Tobias sink to his knees in fear. The room began to shake like the fist of a man containing his anger.

"You didn't think a young girl could ever love a repulsive scab like you?" The voice growled, and Toby sobbed.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry…"

"Not yet, you're not." The voice began to fade. "But you will be… You have thirteen hours in the oubliette to learn the meaning of the word 'sorry'."

"No! Don't! Don't leave me here!" But it was too late.

He was alone.

…

When a large number of guards burst into the king's chambers a short while later, they found the blonde minstrel staring distastefully at a crystal held by… the princess.

"It's a conspiracy! She's oot to kill the King!" One of them cried.

Sarah dropped the crystal in surprise as Jareth pulled her behind him. They watched in horror as it fell to the ground, smashing at their feet. There crouched Tobias, clothes filthy, tears streaking his face.

"Yer Majes'y?" The guardsman cried. Tobias looked up, first with fear, then with a livid, white-hot anger.

"Get them!" He shrieked, scrabbling away from Jareth and Sarah and pointing at them with a grubby finger. "Kill them both!"


	11. Never Escape

In which we go back to the beginning, and things are _still_ problematic.

Credit, I believe, to Lunar Butterflies and notwritten for helping me come up the The Vengeance. notwritten suggested putting Tobias in a crystal, and LB suggested putting him in Sarah's tower room. I figured an oubliette is almost the same thing.

It's still hard to find ways of saying glitter without actually saying it.

My friend and I had a glitter war in art yesterday. I'm still finding stuff everywhere from last time, and now I've got about a million more tons. It truly is the herpes of the craft world (once you get it, it never goes away). But anyway, as a result, I have declared myself to be Madame Esmerelda the Transvestite Glitter Queen. I'm not actually any of those things, but still... Maybe 'the'.

Anyway, I'm waffling on again, so disclaimer: I own nothing, yadayada, gold hotpants, etc.

Review, my lovelies, or I'll bring back Hotpants Hoggle. Maybe even 'dance magic dance' Hotpants Hoggle. Don't say I didn't warn you.

* * *

Chapter Ten

Jareth wrapped his arms protectively around Sarah, pulling her close. She quivered against him, eyes wide with fear. He stroked her hair softly as death closed in.

He glared at their pursuers imperiously, the full brunt of his Fae wrath glinting in his eyes. They faltered at his expression, but did not stop. He had no power here, not really. They did not know who he was, he could not control them.

Jareth looked down at the girl in his arms, emotions flaring. He would protect her, no matter what it took. Even if it meant returning to his own cage. He would bear a hundred thousand years of entrapment, if only to see her safe.

"Sarah... Sarah, my love, I have a plan." He murmured. "We shall be safe, precious thing. I promise you."

She nodded, clinging to him. His heart melted at the blind trust in her eyes. As the men surrounded them, weapons poised for murder, Jareth waved his hand. In the blink of an eye they disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of smoke and gold dust.

...

They reappeared in the forest of the eldritch party; it was twilight, the dusky light making the place even more beautiful. Sarah gazed about her in wonder, blinking as though she had just awoken from some strange dream.

"Is it real?" She half-whispered, reaching out to brush the snowy bark of a tree with her fingertips.

"It is. Welcome to my Kingdom, Sarah." Jareth smiled like an indulgent father.

"But how did we-"

"You should know the answer to that by now, precious thing." He cupped her face in his hands, placing his forehead against hers. "Magic."

"Are we safe here?" Sarah asked, a subtle note of fear in her soft voice. "Can he find us?"

"Your brother will never trouble you again, Sarah. I give you my word." He traced the line of her lips with a gentle finger, smiling softly at her sigh. "You have absolutely nothing to fear."

"And what of you?" She slipped her arms around his neck. "You told me this was your cage."

"It was my cage because I was alone. As long as you are with me, I am free." He replied fiercely.

"Then I shall stay with you always." She responded just as fiercely.

Jareth laughed, smiling his pointy smile. He brushed his lips against hers, snaking an arm around her waist to hold her upright when her knees buckled. He kissed her again, harder this time, then softly. She tasted just as he knew she would; sweet and soft and spicy and perfect. His hand entwined itself in her dark hair, pulling her close. She wrapped her fingers in his golden locks, standing on her toes to kiss him, gently, sweetly. For a long moment they remained locked together, savouring the new tastes of each other's mouths.

"Sarah..." Jareth murmured against the corner of her mouth. "Would you like to see my palace, precious thing?"

"Mhm..." She mumbled, grazing his lips with hers. Sparks shot through her body at his every touch.

"You'll have to keep your hands to yourself in front of the Court." He laughed, pulling reluctantly away. "We'll have plenty of time for that."

Sarah pouted, but her eyes were happy. Jareth looked into those green eyes, revelling in her joy. He had achieved all he had hoped; he had freed her body and her soul. She was happy, and she was... his. He folded her in his arms, kissing her forehead.

"Here we go again." He murmured, flicking his wrist. They disappeared from the twilight forest.

...

They reappeared in the palace courtyard. A crystal fountain spurted coloured water from the centre of an enormous mosaic of precious stones depicting the starry heavens. Marble archways surrounded the courtyard, some leading into the glistening white palace, others, covered with lush green vines, leading to ornate gardens. The palace towered above them, its walls a pearly white. Its' towers and spires were rooved with coloured glass which reflected the sun's rays, the entire structure glistening in the late afternoon light. Beautiful people milled around the courtyard, making the whole scene look like a painting of Greek gods.

"Prince Jareth!" A voice called. "I had not heard that you'd returned!"

People began to flock around the couple. Sarah gazed out from Jareth's arms, in awe of the beauty around her. He held her protectively close; she could feel his heartbeat accelerating.

"What was it like above ground? Was it frightfully dull?"

"Are the humans as hideous as they say?"

"Are you returning Aboveground, or are you staying here among your people?"

Questions rang out from all sided. Jareth waved them off, pulling Sarah after him into the palace.

"Hello, brother." A figure stepped out from one of the arches, stepping forth to embrace Jareth.

"Caleb." Jareth did not return the embrace, stepping in front of Sarah.

"What do you have there? Don't tell me you've found yourself a girl already?" Caleb tried to step around Jareth. "Come, let me see her!"

"Caleb, please... She is... Not who you'd expect." Jareth sounded nervous, his tone pleading.

"What's wrong?" Sarah whispered, worry creeping into her voice.

"Nothing, love. Everything will be fine." He assured her soothingly.

"Come, stop hiding her!" Caleb was growing impatient. "I demand you show me your lady love."

"If you wish... But please brother, halt your judgement until I have had the chance to explain." Jareth pulled Sarah gently in front of him, one arm wrapped tightly about her waist.

"She's a bit plain... Trust you to find the only one of us who's not..." Caleb's amused grin faltered as realisation dawned. "She's not one of us, is she? Jareth, what have you done?"

"Please, brother. I am taking her to our parents. Accompany us, and you will hear my explanation." Jareth's tone was almost desperate. "Please. For me."

Caleb's lip curled momentarily, but then the smile was back. He nodded, then shook his head wearily.

"You always were an odd one, Jareth." He laughed, motioning for them to walk in front of him. He fell into step behind them, flanking them like a guard. A hard distaste lingered in his eyes.

"Jareth, what's the matter? Why did he look so angry?" Sarah murmured, clutching Jareth's arm as they strode through the marble halls.

"Nothing's the matter, precious thing. Just a little issue with some silly old laws." He smiled at her, but his eyes were troubled. "It will all be sorted out very quickly, and then we can pick up from where we left off earlier." He said the last part in a low growl that made her shiver.


	12. The Law of the Fae

In which the author reveals herself to be a horrible person. Again.

I don't know why I won't let them be happy... Oh, well. I write crackfic as well, I can afford to be angsty sometimes.

Also, siblings suck. My brother is not quite as evil as anyone in this fic, but still... siblings suck. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, tralala. Also, I did Zombie Walk today. Not that that's at all relevant, but I just thought you might want to know. It was jolly good fun; mass undead Timewarp.

Review, and the you'll get the next chapter quickly. You'll like it, things get a bit steamy. It's completely unnecessary, but I felt you deserved it. You know, for putting up with me and all that.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

They entered the hall where his parents sat in their marble thrones, marching up to the raised dais. Jareth and Caleb knelt out of habit; Sarah, out of instinct.

"Jareth, you've returned!" His mother beamed, motioning for him to rise.

"Mother, Father." He remained kneeling. "I come before you today to implore you to provide refuge."

"You are always welcome here, my son." His father's deep voice was inflected with confusion.

"Not for me." Jareth took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He stood, pulling Sarah gently up with him. "For her."

Sarah stepped forward timidly, curtsying deeply before the bemused monarchs. She kept her eyes meekly on the ground, stepping back to take Jareth's hand.

"And who is this?" The King boomed cheerfully. "Why does she seek our refuge?"

"A human girl, Father." Caleb offered, his face hard. "Little Jareth has fallen for a mortal."

"What?!" The King leapt to his feet. "Can it be so?"

"Your Majesty, please, let me explain!" Jareth cried.

"You know the law, Jareth! You know the ways of our people." His father yelled, pointing an accusing finger at his youngest son.

"Let him explain." The Queen said, though her voice was cold. "He deserves that, at least."

"Fine, fine. This had better be good, Jareth." The King sat again, eyes dark with anger.

"Her brother is a tyrant. He wishes to wed Sarah, keeping her trapped forever in a little grey tower." Jareth explained desperately. "He is a rough, cold, mad brute. He tried to force himself upon her. I could stand by and let her come to harm!"

"Do you love her?" His mother asked, face flitting between anger and sympathy.

"Yes." Jareth's tone was resolute, his chin thrust stubbornly forward.

"Then you have broken two laws." His brother snarled, stepping forward. "Your Majesties, he may be Prince, but surely that does not make him above the law?"

"What laws?" Sarah asked, sounding slightly panicked. "Jareth, what laws?"

"Did he not tell you?" Caleb put a fluttering hand to his forehead in mock horror. "Jareth, you naughty boy! Listen, mortal girl. There is a set of rules that governs our kingdom. There are not many, but they are very important. Your lover boy here has broken two of them."

"Which two?" She whispered, shaking.

" 'Thou shalt not interfere in the ways of mortals.' " Jareth murmured. " 'Though shalt not... thou shalt not love a mortal.'"

He turned to her with devastating eyes, expression torturously wretched. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I promised you safety, and I've brought you into the scorpion's nest. I thought if I... Ah, but I am a fool, a hopeless fool."

"You must punish him, Majesties." Caleb implored, face black with hatred. "Punish them both."

"No!" Jareth roared, stepping in front of Sarah. "The crime is mine; do not make her suffer any further."

"You know the law." His father said mildly, face emotionless. "You are to be banished. She will be Ended."

Jareth sunk to his knees, despair washing over him. He had failed. He had not rescued her. They would not be together. She was to suffer a fate worse then death, and he was to be sent away in disgrace.

Small, cold hands slipped around his neck, soft lips brushing his cheek. He looked up to see Sarah, a stubborn look on her face despite the tears on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, my love. I have failed you." He murmured.

"No. You rescued me. Now i can die happy, having known freedom." Her tone was fierce, a bright fire burning in her eyes. "Having known love."

"You don't understand, precious thing." He looked at her with wretched eyes. "To be Ended is worse than death. Your soul is destroyed along with your body. You can never come back."

"Good." She growled. "I would not want to come back if I could not be with you."

"Can we put an end to this touching little display?" Caleb asked, tone dripping with disdain.

"Have a heart, son." The Queen replied, giving her eldest son a cold look. "Sarah, was that your name?"

"Yes, Majesty?" She responded timidly.

"Do you love my son, Sarah-mortal?" Her tone was indifferent, but she tilted her head curiously.

"Yes, Your Majesty. He is everything to me." Her voice did not quaver as she replied, looking straight into the eyes of the Fae queen.

The King and Queen put their heads together, murmuring softly. Caleb stood above the star-crossed lovers, arms folded. Finally, the King gestured for Jareth and Sarah to stand.

"You will both be punished as the law dictates." He told them in his booming voice. "But... under the circumstances, you will be allowed one hour alone together in which to say your goodbyes. And Jareth: if you so much as try to magic yourselves away, the consequences will be dire."

Caleb smirked, turning and striding swiftly out of the room. He returned with two guards; they looked slightly bewildered at the idea of having to do something other than standing ornamentally at the door.

"Ah, yes... Guards, escort my son and his young mortal to his chambers. See to it that they do not leave." The King sighed wearily. "Caleb, can I trust you to fetch them both in an hour?"

"Yes, Father." He nodded to the guards, who motioned for Jareth and Sarah to walk in front of them.

The small procession made their way through the glistening halls, drawing stares and murmurs from the people they passed. They stopped in front of the door to Jareth's chambers, locking him and Sarah inside.


	13. Ten More Minutes With You

This chapter is completely pointless. It has no real relevance whatsoever to the plot; in fact, it may even detract from it. However, I feel you all deserve it for putting up with my cliffhangers, poor excuse for a story and pathetic pleas for reviews. Also, it is the second last chapter. If you've stuck with me this long, then you definitely deserve it. You don't really have to read it, because as I said, it contributes nothing to the plot, but I wrote it just for you (and also because it was fun... hehe). So anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Especially all you people in countries I would not have a hope in Hell of finding on a map. I am constantly astounded at the range of countries who are on my traffic thingy. Where the shit is Estonia? And Latvia? Eastern Europe, I know that much, but where?! I love you all.

Disclaimer: Isn't it a very good thing I don't own anything remotely associated with the Labyrinth? In fact, in for some bizarre reason anyone decides to attempt to sell me the rights, please, send them running in the other direction. Strap a rocket to them if you have to.

You don't have to review this chapter. I mean, I'd like you to anyway, obviously, but it's not mandatory this time.

P.S. This is probably the first time I've really tried to write this kind of thing, and I have no real experience in the matter, so I apologise if it's a bit all over the place. Also, I wrote this entirely without internet, so had no way of checking Sarah's clothes for historical accuracy. Just pretend.

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Jareth strode to the window, gazing resolutely out at the palace grounds below. He turned his face away from Sarah when she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

"Look at me, Jareth." She demanded.

"I can't." His voice broke. "I failed you. I do not deserve to look at you."

"Don't be ridiculous." She said dismissively. "You did exactly what you promised. Now look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, Jareth lowered his gaze to her face. He was taken back by the depth of emotion he found there, the passion burning in her eyes.

"We have one hour left together. Let's make it last." She said fiercely, pulling his face down to hers.

Sarah crushed their lips together, forcing him to respond. After a few seconds he began to kiss her back, roughly, passionately. His hands grasped her around the waist, forcing their bodies together. She grasped fistfuls of his hair, holding him down. Jareth slid his mouth down the curve of her throat, running the tip of his tongue over her pulse. She shivered, moaning with pleasure.

"I can give us a few extra hours, precious thing." He murmured against the base of her throat. "Any more than that, and they will notice."

"How?" She pulled his face up to hers, confused. "Are you going to negotiate, or..."

"Magic." Jareth laughed. "It's always magic, remember? I'll reorder time for you."

"Magic." She breathed, capturing his mouth in a kiss.

He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her gently in his arms. Jareth laid her down on his bed, an enormous wooden four-poster with crimson hangings and a scarlet silk bedspread. A black fur pelt was tossed across it, and it was on this that Sarah lay. The pleasurable feeling of fur beneath her was quickly obliterated by the pleasure of Jareth's mouth on her skin. He blazed a trail of kisses along her jaw, down her throat to her shoulders.

"Jareth..." Sarah murmured, eyes closed.

"Mm?" His lips left fire blazing on her skin.

"Don't stop."

Jareth laughed, a deep, throaty sound. He pulled Sarah up into a sitting position, sliding his hands up her thighs. She shivered, pushing her hands up under the soft fabric of shirt. His heart thrummed wildly under her touch, skin tingling madly.

"How you turned my world, you precious thing." He groaned, voice husky. He buried his face in her hair as she kissed his throat, lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Sarah forced Jareth's shirt back over his shoulders, sliding the soft fabric down his arms. She gasped softly, running her hands over his lightly muscled chest. With an amused grin, he flung the garment to the floor, sliding his hands under the hem of Sarah's dress. He felt her body tense, then relax under his gentle touch. With one hand Jareth undid the ribbons down her back, pulling the embroidered girdle over her head. He pulled the overskirt down her legs, flinging it away. Then he slid the gown over her shoulders, pulling it free and dropping it on the floor. Sarah sat before him now in nought but a grey satin slip.

"Damn women's clothing." He growled. Sarah giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Jareth slid his hands back up under her dress, watching her eyes glaze over as his fingertips ran over her inner thighs. He grinned wolfishly, pulling away. Sarah pouted coquettishly, then her face lit up with an impish grin. She placed a hand flat on each of Jareth's knees, then slid her palms up his leather-clad thighs. Jareth closed his eyes, leaning his head back and swallowing. Sarah leaned forward, leaving her hands where they were, to lick his exposed neck. His eyes flew open, staring at her in shock.

"What's wrong, love?" She pouted playfully. "Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

"You're a right little minx, you know that?" He growled, silken voice gravelly with desire.

In response, Sarah pushed him back against the pillows, straddling his chest. She looked suddenly shy, as she lifted the edge of her slip, pulling it gently over her head. Jareth's eyes widened as she leant over him, a dark-haired angel. Her skin was alabaster white, blushing gently pink on her cheeks and most private of places. She bit her lip, searching Jareth's face timidly. Jareth pulled himself up, wrapping her in his arms. Her cheek pressed into his chest.

"I don't deserve you." Jareth murmured, tracing patterns on her bare back with his fingertips. She clung to him suddenly, as though frightened by his words.

"Sh, sh, don't worry, precious thing." He stroked her hair lovingly, pulling her back to cup her chin in his hand. He kissed her softly, pulling her body to his.

Jareth rolled over until Sarah was underneath him, dark hair fanning out over the crimson bedspread. He trailed kisses across her shoulders, over her pale breasts, down her stomach to her navel, then back up again. Watching her with wondrous eyes he stood, peeling off his tight pants until he was just as naked as she. He stood for a moment to let her take him all in; his lithe limbs, his muscled chest, his hardness, all because of her. Then he crawled back across the bed, pressing his weight softly down on top of her. He kissed her lips with a gentle passion, making her moan. She lifted her hips and he slid into her, kissing away her soft cries at the new feeling.

They made love for hours of reordered time, exploring every inch of each others' bodies. They gasped and moaned and screamed, flesh moulded together in that most primal of acts. Then they lay together, limbs wrapped around each other. They lay in silence, broken occasionally with a whispered 'I love you'.

Then their time was up, and Jareth dressed them both with a flick of his wrist. They stood at the door, hands entwined. Sarah kissed his lips again and again, determined it would be him she tasted as the executioner's blade fell. A knock sounded on the door and tears began to slip quietly from her eyes.

"We'll never see each other again, will we?" She murmured, leaning her head on Jareth's shoulder. "Forever separated."

"It's only forever. Not long at all." He murmured back, as the door swung open.


	14. As the World Falls Down

In which the author ditches good story telling for blatant melodrama

or

THE LAST CHAPTER!!!

That's right folks, this is it. After this, there's just a brief epilogue. And possible a teary thankyou speech... Haha. I'm uploading this a day earlier than intended, because as weird as it will be to have finished this, I also want to get it over and done with.

So anyway, the devastating conclusion, etc. Are you devastated? Do say you are.

Also, please suspend disbelief and imagine reincarnation is real. I personally am Atheist but... well, if you can't accept something magical in a story about Fae, magic and impossibly tight pants, then you're in the wrong fandom. So anyway, do enjoy this last chapter. Epilogue will probably be up day after tomorrow.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, obviously. They got it right the first time, I shouldn't be allowed to mess around with it.

This is your second-last chance to review! So please leave a contribution in the little box.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

It was Kyra who ran into the room, throwing her arms about Jareth's neck with a dramatic cry. He patted her head absentmindedly, turning to Sarah and raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, my darling brother! I just heard the news!" Kyra stood back, hands fluttering to her chest. "I'm so sorry. Truly, I am. I wish it weren't so... Is this her?"

She eyed Sarah up and down, a tremulous smile upon her sweet lips.

"Oh, you poor child. We could have been the very best of friends, you and I, if only... Oh dear."

"Kyra, you should go." Jareth said wearily. "If Caleb finds you here..."

"I know, Jareth, I know. I will be gone in a moment, I just came to tell you..." She looked over her shoulder, then leant in and whispered conspiratorially. "I spoke to the Enders. I bargained with them, for you, brother. They made me a promise; they will take her life, but not her soul."

Jareth looked at his sister blankly for a moment, eyes unreadable. Then his face flooded with relief and he hugged her, repeating the word 'thankyou' over and over. Tears spilled silently from her eyes as she hugged first her brother, then Sarah. Then Kyra left, leaving Jareth and Sarah alone again.

"What does she mean, Jareth?" Sarah enquired. "What will happen now?"

"You will die, but your soul will live on." His voice was triumphant, a hard glint in his eyes. "You will come back, in another time, in another form. And I will find you. Even if I have to travel the entire universe."

Caleb strode into the room, beautiful features twisted into a cold mask of contempt. He motioned to the guards, and they secured Sarah and Jareth's wrists with thin silver chains.

"Are these really necessary?" Jareth asked coldly.

"You're a criminal, brother. And you shall be treated as one." Caleb fixed him with a nasty, arrogant grin. "I always knew you were worthless, Jareth. Sooner or later, I knew everyone else would see it too."

"And I always knew you were a petty, cold-hearted bully." Jareth replied coolly, voice dripping with disdain. "You're no more fit to be king than I am, brother."

Caleb snarled, jerking his head at the guards. They pushed Jareth and Sarah out of the room, back through the palace to the marble hall of the Fae monarchs.

Word of Jareth's ill deeds had obviously spread quickly. The throne room was filled with the high of Fae society, here to see the conviction of their wayward prince and his mortal wench. They stood around the sides of the chamber, whispering to each other behind delicate hands.

"Prince Jareth." The King boomed, and the room fell silent. "Third in line to the throne of Fae. You stand convicted of interfering in the ways of mortals, and of loving a mortal girl. How do you plea?"

"Guilty, Father." Jareth sighed, feigning an air of nonchalance. He refused to give the court the spectacle they desired.

"Then you shall face the consequences of your actions." The King declared, raising himself to his full height. "Prince Jareth, you lover shall be Ended, and you shall be banished to rule over the Goblin Kingdom."

Jareth blanched. "You send me to the Underground?"

"Maybe there you will learn responsibility and duty to your people." The Queen said, voice imperiously cold. "Take them to their fates."

Two guards took Sarah by the arms, leading her out of the hall. Jareth stood still as stone, watching her walk away from him. Then she turned her face back to look at him one last time, and something in him broke. He ran for her, knocking the guards out of the way. Jareth clasped Sarah's hands in his, pressing his mouth to hers. They kissed deeply, stopping only when hands wrenched them apart.

"I will come for you." He told her desperately as she was pulled away, carried from the throne room and out of his life forever. "I will come for you!"

She smiled at him, a scared, sad, sweet, beautiful smile. Then she was gone.

Jareth drew a shuddering breath, turning to face the murmuring crowd. He stood straight and proud, regarding his people with a steady eye. The men who had pulled him and Sarah apart drew back, as though waiting.

"I will bear your punishment." Jareth spoke, his voice velvety smooth. "But hear this; for all your dainty smiles and happy displays, you are a cold and hateful people. There is a twisted black rot in your hearts, and it is blackest in the heart of your future king. I am happy to be free of your hatred."

He spat at Caleb's feet, then turned to his parents. They regarded him with dark anger, and he smiled.

"I am ready." He said, voice calm despite the torrent of emotions inside him. The King waved a hand over him and he was no longer in the marble throne room, standing now in a small, noisy town where grotesque creatures squabbled in the streets.

His time of waiting had begun.


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

After centuries of waiting, her soul had returned to earth. She was a young girl, living in an Aboveground entirely different from the one Jareth had first walked upon, but it was her, and she was just as beautiful as before. She had the same dark hair, the same green eyes. She was just as tempestuous and brave, just as passionate, just as loving.

He had done everything for her, tried so hard to make her remember, but not once did she fling her arms around him, not once did she do a single thing to make him think she knew. After everything he had done, she was still lost to him. He had not tried hard enough. He had done something wrong. Jareth tore at his hair, grinding his teeth in anguish and frustration. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

He ruled over his own kingdom, with its own rules. His subjects may be imbeciles, but he had borne it all because he knew that one day, she would return. He had sworn that they would never again be separated, that in his kingdom they would be together until the stars fell from the sky. He had sacrificed everything for her, and for what?

For thirteen -nay, less than that- for but a handful of agonising hours, every moment wanting nothing more than to throw his arms around her and murmur her name, over and over. Each time she thwarted him his heart had shattered into even smaller pieces. Her final words had left him with but an empty crevice of dust and broken dreams, and still he wanted just to fold her into his chest and hold her forever. Now, he would never get that chance.

Centuries of waiting, and all for nought.

* * *

Disclaimer: If Labyrinth was mine, it would have gone something like this:

*wishes away child and J appears*

J-Forget about the baby.

Me-Ok.

J-Wait, what?

Me-I said ok.

J-You're supposed to...

Me-Hush, precious thing...

*advances*

J-No! For the love of leather, no!

*thriteen hours later. My brother is a goblin, I am lying in bed smoking a bubble pipe after rather violent bone-jump, Jareth is crying, naked, in the corner*

J-I feel so violated!

Me-Oh, shush. It's your fault for wearing those pants.

* * *

Le end!

Gasp, sob, etc.

My, I'm a horrible person...

As I've been saying to some people, if it helps, you may consider this a prequel of sorts to 'Unexpected Occurrences', my spongerific crackfic. Also, a few people have asked if I will be doing an actual sequel. Well, the situation is thus: I am currently in my last few weeks of high school. Once I finish, I'm moving interstate, and I don't know how long it will be until we have internet again. I have written two one-shots, one for Labyrinth and one for Batman, but they are not yet typed up, so I don't know when you'll get those. You'll just have to bear with me for a while.

Big thankyous and epic hugs of love to everyone who has reviewed, or even just followed this story. I love you all.

As I have said previously, this fic was based on a dream I had, in which I was a princess, my brother was evil, he pushed me off a tower and Jareth saved me. In the dream, the sensation of falling was... Well, indescribable. It was terrifying, sad, strangely calming... I hope that's in some way come through in my writing. Also, it was written in two weeks on top of a hill in the ranging winds without internet. I'm glad you've all enjoyed it.

I'm sure not all siblings are really as evil as Tobias and Caleb. I know mine's as annoying as Hell, but... There're limits.

So, I shall now bid you adieu, with this final message:

I am covered in so much glitter I think I may technically qualify as an 80's fantasy character. Also, I have a disturbing penchant for men with pointy eyebrows. We're watching _Star Trek_ tonight. Also, I have managed to work two references to Jareth's pants into my English assignment.

Thankyou, I love you all! Gold hotpants for everyone!


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